Unimagined Vistas
by Fiorenza-a
Summary: Bodie looked at the stranger with whom he was about to be teamed; Doyle was beautiful.
1. Chapter 1

Bodie looked at the stranger with whom he was about to be teamed and a part of him he had ruthlessly buried since he was sixteen years old stole his breath. Doyle was beautiful, cherubic even. The shock of it making him dangerously incoherent.

He tore his gaze from the luminous being suddenly standing in Cowley's office and dropped his head to stare intently at his feet. His fight to quell the turmoil within him absorbing him completely.

Cowley took in the brooding presence in front of him and understood. The man Bodie purported to be would have been outraged by the fay creature to whom he had just been introduced. But if Bodie was the man he purported to be Bodie wouldn't have been in CI5.

The man Bodie actually was masked his near panic by demanding ''I'm going to be teamed with that?''

Cowley bided his tongue; these next few minutes would tell.

The angel in Doyle's guise stopped fiddling with the tie strung uncomfortably round his neck and said ''Problem is it sunbeam?''

Bodie couldn't look at the face which had unexpectedly made five minutes in the inner sanctum of CI5 more terrifying than any African war.

''Well is it Bodie?'' prompted Cowley when Bodie's silence threatened to go on being unbroken.

Bodie suddenly straightened. Head up, shoulders back, eyes fixed. ''I can't work with him sir.'' There was panic and pleading in there if you knew where to look and Cowley knew. Always knew.

But Doyle didn't. Doyle saw what Bodie intended you to see. The soldier. ''Not enough spit and polish is that it?'' he sneered, before turning to Cowley ''Is this your new thinking? 'Cos it looks pretty much like the old thinking from here.'' There was anger in that, restrained and subdued because of Cowley's presence and fuelled by disillusion and bitter resignation.

Cowley said nothing. He'd tolerate a little ill discipline for now. There were rewards which outweighed the cost if his instincts were right and they were rarely wrong these days.

Bodie turned to face his nemesis. More courage than sense Cowley had been told. Death wish had been in the reports, though they were wrong. Sometimes courage was just that. Some men that exceptional. ''I said _I_ couldn't work with you. I'm your problem. If you have something to say about that; I'm the one you say it to.''

''Okay sunshine. What's wrong with me? Which bit of little England did I fail to measure up to?''

Bodie hesitated at that. He didn't want to be remembered by this man as the one dullard who didn't catch the irony in Cowley's lavender and roses speech.

Cowley watched. Doyle was a bright lad. He'd let his anger get in the way of that up until now, but Bodie's hesitation had started the cogs in motion.

''Or is it something else?'' asked Doyle, the detective at work. Scenting a deception, knowing something didn't hang together and probing for the weakness.

''I work better alone'' said Bodie inanely. This wasn't his strength, put a gun in his hand and he knew where he was, but he was an honest man and had no stomach for lying. Though he would if it was necessary. He had the stomach for far worse if it was necessary.

''No that's not it'' said Doyle confidently. They were fighting on his turf now.

Bodie found refuge in anger ''Okay then mate, you tell me. What's my problem?'' It was a mistake, the minute the words left his mouth he knew it was a mistake.

''Oh I don't know darling'' Doyle hissed venomously ''but I think I can guess. Frightened I'll lose the soap are we?''

Bodie blinked; thunderstruck. Doyle was admitting? Knew what he'd assumed? Thought that was the reason? He couldn't let him think that. He could admit nothing himself but he couldn't let him think that. There was only one way out without explaining, without revealing the truth. Only one thing he could do to prove to the man that he wasn't despised.

''I do work well alone. And I keep my soap on a rope. Guess again sunshine. You'll need to do better than that if this is going to work.''

Doyle's eyes narrowed suspiciously. ''Weather suddenly changed did it?''

''I changed, didn't know you swung that way. Leaves more birds for me. Got an incentive now. Not just stuck with some skinny ex-plod.''

''Oh I wouldn't go thinking that sunshine'' said Doyle nastily ''got a taste for the birds too. All round pervert see?''

''Just the way I like them'' said Bodie smugly, he was in familiar territory now, but his heart was still hammering. He wouldn't have to explain. Doyle would get the birds. This beautiful foul tempered heavenly creature would share his bed and understand the birds. Bodie was dizzy with the prospect of unimagined new vistas opening before him.


	2. Chapter 2

There'd been shooting, quite a bit of shooting but only one stabbing. The villains had been disarmed and rounded up. Cowley was on the car phone explaining to the mandarins that England was just that little bit safer.

Doyle looked like thunder. Bodie shut his eyes and allowed his head to fall back against the rough brick wall behind him, but Doyle wasn't letting him off that easily. ''What the hell did you think you were doing?''

''My job'' tried Bodie.

''Kamikaze pilot? Or apprentice lemming?''

''He had a gun.''

''So did you; so why didn't you use it?''

Bodie felt for his gun and used his anger to give him the strength to hurl it in the direction of Doyle's voice. ''I don't know how to make them work without the bloody bullets.''

Doyle checked the gun and Bodie was glad of the respite. His leg was starting to throb and he felt cold. It would be so good just to sleep. It was all he wanted to do right now. If Doyle would just stop shouting at him there was a good chance he could.

He heard footsteps approaching across the uneven ground and was suddenly aware of a familiar presence beside him. An arm encircled his shoulders and pulled him towards a fine woollen coated resting place. He could smell the faint trace of whisky on Cowley's breath as he said ''There's an ambulance on its way Doyle, make sure it finds us.''

'Us' thought Bodie, sounds good that, never had an 'us'. ''Never had an 'us' sir'' he said out loud.

''I know laddie'' soothed Cowley and Bodie felt a gentle hand stroking his face. ''But maybe you've needed one.''

''Doyle?'' he asked. It was difficult keeping his thoughts in order, everything was jumbling together.

''Checking on the ambulance.''

''He's okay? That bastard had him, I was sure...''

''You got in his way, you've been stabbed.''

Bodie was awake at that, adrenaline surging, ready to do battle ''Doyle's been stabbed?''

Cowley pulled him back ''Doyle's fine. You've been stabbed Bodie. I need you to settle down, the knife's still in you, it's slowing the bleeding but you'll do more damage if you move.''

''Doyle's okay?''

The hand was back, soothing him, lulling him. ''Doyle's fine. I'll hear your report now.''

''Never had an 'us'.''

''Bodie, stay focussed. Concentrate on giving me your report.''

''Ray, his name is Ray Doyle, did you know that? I told him mine was Bodie, just Bodie.''

''I've never known you to answer to anything else.''

''3.7 sir, answer to that and Bodie. Not Liam. That's why I told him, so he would know.''

''Liam? Bodie.''

''Was that. Once. Long time ago. Now I'm just Bodie. Where's Doyle? Is he okay? That bastard didn't get him?''

''No Bodie, Doyle's just fine. No one got to him'' Cowley checked his watch and cursed silently under his breath.

''Never had an 'us'.''

''Every life has its price Bodie. Bodie?'' Cowley gave up stroking the passive features when he got no reply, murmuring softly ''Och laddie, now's no time for sleeping.''

Doyle and the ambulance turned up minutes later. Doyle stayed to watch Bodie being loaded into the ambulance and then disappeared. Cowley travelled with Bodie, but Bodie didn't wake. He was no more alert when they got to the hospital. Cowley stayed anyway until Bodie was out on a ward.

Taking one of Bodie's hands by the fingertips, Cowley allowed the inertly curled digits to rest against his own. ''I can't pretend to understand lad, but if it's what you need, tell him. There's no pain worse than not having tried. No regret harder to live with.''

There was a twitch in the fingers and they closed round his hand. ''Ray'' mumbled Bodie.

''He's not here lad'' responded Cowley feeling inexplicably angry. There was no reason for Doyle to be there. He'd partnered these two men, but there was no obligation for them to be joined at the hip. For every team which developed an attachment beyond the job there was one that didn't. So long as it worked in the field Cowley wasn't usually disposed to question the dynamic.

Bodie shifted again and lost his grip on Cowley's hand. ''Ray?''

''He's not here lad, get some sleep. I'll be by again tomorrow.''

''Ray'' breathed Bodie as he drifted away.

Cowley's car was waiting for him as he left the hospital and Doyle was waiting for him when he reached his office.

''4.5?''

''Am I off roster 'til he's discharged? Not sure how this works, neither of us has been injured before.''

''You remain active until I say otherwise.''

''Right sir. So long as I know where I stand.''

''He's still unconscious.''

''Expect that's to be expected. Knife wound like that.''

''Would you like to visit him Doyle? Your ID buys a certain amount of dispensation when it comes to visiting hours.''

''Never liked hospitals.''

''I think he'd appreciate seeing you.''

''Hold his hand sir? Think we both know how he'd feel about that.''


	3. Chapter 3

Bodie was fit again. Doyle wasn't. Neither was he happy. Injury in the line of duty was an occupational hazard. Injury tripping over the galvanised mop bucket at the entrance to the launderette was humiliating. The handle of the mop had tangled with his legs and, hands full, he'd landed heavily on the wet tiles, injuring his coccyx and jarring his spine. Both were protesting, but not as much as Doyle.

''Desk duty. Doesn't the Cow realise I can't sit down?''

''You can't stand up either, according to you.''

Doyle eyed him malevolently. He was used to that. Doyle never looked at him any other way.

Sometimes they'd taken girls out together. Dinner, the pub and, on one wonderful night, dancing. He still remembered Doyle dancing. He'd been so mesmerised he hadn't noticed his date leaving. When he'd caught up with her in the car park she'd raised a hand to his face and kissed him softly. ''He doesn't know does he?'' she'd said and he'd blushed.

''It wouldn't matter'' he'd found himself saying, because he now knew that to be true.

''Both ways is it for you?''

He'd nodded. It seemed so easy to admit in the shadows with a gentle stranger. Impossible in the daylight with an abrasive Doyle.

''Do you want to be with me?'' she'd asked and suddenly he'd never wanted anything more.

He'd caught her in his arms and kissed her as if they'd loved for millennia. She'd taken his hand and led him to his car. ''Take me home'' she'd said.

He'd driven with style but without exuberance, her perfume filling the air dispelling the scent of Doyle's aftershave, still lingering from the business of the day.

His accommodation had been a modest affair in an ordinary street. It'd boasted a parking space and an untidy patch of greenery to the front and a scrap metal dealership to the rear. She hadn't seemed perturbed.

''It's not much'' he'd apologised.

''It's not yours'' she'd replied.

''No. Didn't think it was obvious.''

She'd reached out and combed her fingers through the hair above his ear as he'd unlocked the door. ''Is anything yours?''

''Not really'' he'd said letting them in. ''Few possessions, my clothes, I travel light. Necessity of the job.''

''Really? Or is it that you're afraid to settle?''

''Going to dissect me are you?''

''Would you mind?''

''You wouldn't like what you'd find.''

''I wouldn't or you don't?''

''Same difference.'' They were in the living room now, he was by the drinks, twisting the cap from a bottle of vodka because she'd been drinking it in the club.

She slipped off her coat and stepped out of her shoes, losing three inches so her head tucked under his chin when she reached him and took the bottle from his hands, leaning round him to replace it on the tray he'd taken it from.

He circled her with his arms and she leaned back against his hold, looking up to find his eyes ''Let's just go to bed.''

''Yes'' he said and guided her to his room.

She took out her earrings by touch and slipped off her rings. ''Help me'' she asked, turning so he could undo her necklace. He kissed her neck as he released it. Presenting it to her over her shoulder, letting it dangle over her hand as she reached up to take it.

''Do you always remove your jewellery?''

''Always'' she said turning to face him. ''Do you want to remove the rest?''

He held out his hand to take the jewellery from hers, placing it on a shelf with a potted fern at one end and a small toy clown at the other. Then he started to unbutton her dress. The satin fabric slipping open easily until he reached her waist. She brought up her hands to undo the buckle of the narrow gold belt encircling it. Then she shrugged out of her sleeves and allowed the dress to slide over her hips to the floor. It pooled at her feet in shimmering blue.

''My turn'' she said.

He took off his jacket and hung it over the back of the room's only chair. ''Your turn'' he allowed.

He watched her small hands work their way through the buttons of his shirt. Long red nails moving deftly against the black. She pulled the shirt tails from his waistband and undid the cuffs. Then she stopped and ran a finger over a small imperfection in his skin. ''Bullet'' he said. ''Nothing serious, a long time ago.''

She looked at him quizzically, holding his gaze as he felt her hands on the fastening to his trousers. He inclined his head to kiss her and felt her hands worm their way to his erection. He shut his eyes and swam in the sensation as she stroked and teased. His eyes flying open again as she grazed the back of a nail down the length of the tortured flesh. ''Pay attention'' she admonished with a wicked smile.


	4. Chapter 4

They made love. It _was_ love for those fleeting hours. The only love he knew. Now he held her. It wasn't morning. It was grey early light, but it wasn't morning. She was warm and soft and fragile. He knew how to break her neck and snap her bones. Kill the oxygen to her brain. Beat a child from her. Force her submission. His head was full of all the ugly things he knew how to do. But his arms were full of her and it saved him.

She stirred sleepily against him and he held his breath. They left him sometimes now. Pulling on their clothes and slipping away. Leaving him to face the morning alone. But she settled back against him and his heart settled too. He relaxed and breathed easier, stroking her dark hair. Darker than Doyle's, not as dark as his own. It was silken and perfumed. He knew he would remember it. Her face would fade into the crowd of faces jostling for space in his memory, but the feel of that hair would remain.

He shut his eyes and allowed her perfume to carry him away. Drifting into sleep until the grey light gave way to the pastel shades of dawn.

She woke him with a kiss. ''Do you have to be away?''

He smiled down at her face, her chin resting bonily on his chest. ''No, not unless I'm called in.''

She moved forward to kiss him again ''Good. We have a little time then.''

''A little'' he agreed.

''Enough for this?'' she asked and he felt her hand slip below his navel. He grabbed her and rolled them over so suddenly she gasped in surprise. Then he reached for her wandering hands, pinning them above her head.

She smiled, still trusting him. He clung to that look. It was an absolution. He kissed her neck and trailed further kisses over her collar bone and the swell of her breasts, grazing his teeth over her nipples so she whimpered as she had in the night. He released her hands as he worked his way down her body. The muscles in her thighs tightening as his mouth found the dampness between them.

He worked his tongue against her, teasing the excitedly erect pearl of flesh that rose to meet him, tormenting the sensitive swollen oyster in which it was buried, until she came, spasming and quivering against him. He revelled in his power to do this. To propel his women into this incoherent bliss.

He kissed the inside of her thigh and moved to lie alongside her, cradling her until her breathing settled. ''You didn't do that last night'' she said with wanton awe.

He smiled and rolled between her thighs ''No but you might remember this.'' He rocked his hips so she could be in no doubt of his arousal.

''That I do remember'' she smiled.

''Good'' he said.

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth as he entered her. He wondered briefly if she'd come again as he moved within her, before his mind gave itself over entirely to the dark primal instinct driving him. He forced them both over the precipice with a savage glee. He hadn't been gentle with either of them.

He dropped to her side exhausted. She lay stunned beside him, catching her breath. Then she curled into the comfort of his arms and sobbed, great heaving sobs as he held her and waited until it all washed away. ''Did I hurt you?'' he asked as she hiccoughed through the last of her tears. She nodded mutely in his embrace and he pulled her more tightly to him. ''I'm sorry'' he said kissing the top of her head ''so sorry'' he repeated again and again, punctuating each further act of contrition with more kisses. ''I'm not always in control.''

''I think I want to go now'' she snuffled against his chest.

''Have a shower'' he said. ''I'll make you something to eat and drive you home.''

She looked up at him with bleary eyes ''Why did you do that when you can be so gentle?''

''I can't always help it'' he said honestly.

''Could you with me?''

He gave her a weak smile ''I don't know'' he replied.

''Well at least that's honest'' she said. ''I don't want anything to eat. Let me have a shower and order me a taxi. I think that's best.''

He brewed fresh coffee for her as she showered. There'd been blood on the sheets. Only a smear but it still made him a bastard.

She emerged from the bathroom looking surprisingly virginal. Her face scrubbed of tears and make up, engulfed in the white towelling robe he'd filched from a hotel with a particularly snotty manager.

He handed her a mug of coffee and tried for redemption one last time. ''Daft to call a taxi, let me drive you.''

She'd given him a sad smile, cradling the mug in both hands and she'd kissed his cheek before leaving, but she hadn't let him drive her home.


	5. Chapter 5

Doyle's grumpiness knew no bounds. Bodie had noticed this about Doyle. His stoicism worked in inverse proportion to his injury. His now only twinging back eliciting a never ending stream of grumbles and whingeing. Blow his leg off and he'd have given a Trappist monk a run for his money. The thought gave Bodie no comfort. The idea of Doyle injured was more than he could bear, the idea of him seriously injured shook him from sleep trembling and terrified.

He'd given up all hope of ever possessing the incandescent being with whom he'd been partnered. Cowley had been compassionately subtle in his empathy. Leaving Bodie an open door through which to walk. Bodie hadn't taken it. Being without Doyle was easier to bear when he could still see that angelic and worldly smile illuminate his face. Only for others, never for him. Doyle only tolerated him. Impatient and grouchy. But Doyle had saved his life and risked his own to do it, spitting words of contempt for Bodie's stupidity. Always at fault for the danger which threatened him. Doyle never placing the blame anywhere else.

They didn't see much of each other off duty. Bodie treasured the times Doyle allowed him to share in his life. It was always because Doyle needed something, never because he was wanted for himself. But those few precious crumbs sustained him.

They'd been out for a drink. Doyle had needed a second, so he had asked Bodie and Bodie had obliged as he always did. Dropping his own plans and falling in with Doyle's. He'd picked Doyle up at his flat. Doyle had opened the door and blinded him with his brilliance. Bodie had been struck dumb with his beauty. Humble in the face of it.

Doyle had been sullen and uncommunicative. They'd met the girls at the pub. The girls had been waiting for them, vibrant and witty. Bodie had risen to their challenge and the evening had sparkled. At least it had for him. Doyle had become more and more withdrawn. Finally he had left the table and when he still hadn't returned ten minutes later Bodie made his excuses and went in search of him.

His quest eventually took him to the back of the pub. And there in the warm dusk of summer he found Doyle amongst the discarded pallets and rain sodden boxes. He was on his knees between the bins, illuminated only by the security light, and he wasn't alone. The bastard with him gave Bodie a sardonic look of triumph as Doyle worked his mouth on him. Bodie turned away and threw up. ''Queer hating bastard. Make you sick do we? Why not let him do you next? He's a randy little bugger, never know what you're missing 'til you try it.''

Bodie drew the back of his hand across his mouth, choking on acid and unformed tears. He stared numbly transfixed as the man shuddered and Doyle swallowed. Then Doyle got to his feet and started to pull at his belt. He turned to face Bodie. ''Wanna watch the rest? When he's done me, he's going to do me. Wanna see that do you? Wanna see what it looks like?''

Bodie shook his head and stumbled blindly back into the pub, grateful that the gents was near the door. They stank but he rinsed and spat and splashed cold water. The fanlight high in the end wall was open and through it he could hear Doyle. He threw up again when he realised how very much he wanted to see Doyle. How very much he wanted to watch as Doyle was used by the uncaring bastard with him.

He returned to the table subdued and shaken.

''Have you had a fight with your mate?'' asked Tina, nominally his date for the evening, though Doyle had abdicated any interest in either woman early in the proceedings.

''Something like that'' acknowledged Bodie. ''Look girls would you mind if I called it a night and dropped you off?''

''Call it a night if you want to, but Tracey and me thought we might go on after. That new place in town. If that's okay with you?''

''Sure you'll be okay on your own?''

''Queen Victoria died. They let girls out without a chaperone nowadays. Some of 'em don't even wear a crinoline.''

''Sorry'' said Bodie convinced that sometimes the world was moving too fast for him. When he'd first left England nice girls didn't wait for their men in the pub.

Bodie left the girls to finish their drinks and went out into the humid warmth of the car park, his head exploding with images of Doyle being defiled, of Doyle allowing himself to be abused and exploited. Abandoning himself amongst the refuse to the pleasure of a stranger.

In the dark he sat behind the wheel of his car and felt the bleakness rise up to swallow him. Doyle would give himself over to that, would rather that, than be touched by him.


	6. Chapter 6

Doyle was now apparently fit for duty. The medic who had made this inspired decision had clearly not taken Doyle's less than sunny disposition into account. Doyle had moaned about his bruised and aching back, and his bruised and aching tail bone, for fifty miles straight, through some of the worst holiday traffic Bodie had come up against.

The car was stiflingly hot and opening the windows had done nothing to improve matters since the sun had seemingly leached almost all the oxygen from the air.

Bodie hated humid heat. He was soaked. He could feel the slime of his perspiration between his skin and the car upholstery. The sweat beaded at his temples and ran in occasional rivulets towards his jaw. Doyle was wearing a tweed jacket and looking as if the first frosts of autumn were nipping at his feet.

''I need to get out and stretch me legs. Next services we come to'' he announced.

''Okay'' said Bodie.

''Just because some flaming doctor says I'm fit doesn't mean I'm not going to feel it, sitting like this, stuck in traffic.''

''Still bruised?''

''Rear end looks like a map of the Soviet bloody Union.''

''Would have thought it was used to a fair bit of abuse'' muttered Bodie. The image of Doyle and the bastard at the pub still vividly scored into his psyche.

''What did you say?''

''Nothing. Leave it lie. There are services in about three miles, at this rate it'll probably take another thirty minutes to get there.''

''No I'm interested'' said Doyle turning in his seat, ramming his back up against the passenger door in order to expose Bodie to the full glare of his displeasure.

''I didn't say anything okay? At least nothing worth repeating.''

''You got that right sunshine, 'nothing worth repeating'. Nothing worth saying in the first place. Gone off working with the squad's only resident pervert have we?''

''Okay I shouldn't have said it. Now can we drop it?''

''Oh no, you're not getting off that lightly.''

''When do you ever let me off lightly? It's bloody heavy weather the whole way.''

''What's that supposed to mean?''

''It means Doyle that it's not me who seems to have gone off this partnership. When's the last time you said anything civil to me?''

Doyle blinked, taken aback. ''Well you're a mate, don't have to be civil to mates.''

''Since when am I your bloody mate Doyle? Can't stand to be in my company most of the time.''

''What are you talking about?'' Doyle actually sounded genuinely bewildered.

''When do you ever want to see me just because I'm your mate, eh? It's always because you need a favour, or some muggins to watch you shag behind the pub.''

''Oh that's it, is it?'' Doyle relaxed, looking smugly superior. ''Don't mind the theory of me shagging a bloke, just don't want to be troubled by the practice? Bet you wouldn't have been so squeamish if I'd had a bird out there.''

''That's bloody pitiful Doyle. Does it never occur to you that I might have a little bit more self respect?''

Doyle guffawed at that. ''You're a bloody soldier mate. Not exactly renowned for being finicky are they? Have you any idea of the things I've found your lot up to in my old job?''

Bodie suddenly swung the car off the road and into the verge. He turned off the engine and ripped the keys out of the ignition. Out of the car before Doyle had even registered the movement. Then he was storming up the bank to stand like a stag at bay on the ridge. Doyle scrambled after him. There was almost a breeze away from the road looking out over the parched fields.

''What are you playing at Bodie?''

Bodie drew back his arm and threw the keys as far as he knew how. They sailed through the air and disappeared somewhere into the cracked earth.

''What the bloody hell did you do that for?''

''Because I've had it. I've had it with the foul temper and the constant high horse and the any port in a storm shagging. I've had it Doyle, you're on your own.''

Bodie began to walk through the fields. No, he was marching through them. Doyle ran after him. ''Bodie slow down.'' Bodie didn't. ''Slow down Bodie.'' When Bodie showed no signs of heeding him a second time Doyle made a grab for his arm and swung him round.

Even off balance Bodie's punch was lethal. Doyle sprawled on the ground spitting dried wisps of vegetation from his mouth. Pulling himself to his feet, he ran after Bodie again. ''Bodie will you talk to me?''

That did get Bodie's attention, he stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face Doyle.

''Talk to you? What the bloody hell for Doyle? When have you ever been interested in anything I have to say?''


	7. Chapter 7

Doyle stood panting in the heat. ''Now Bodie. Today. I'm interested in what you have to say today. Talk to me.''

''Why should I?''

''Because I'm asking.''

Bodie turned that over for long minutes in his mind. ''Why are you asking?''

''Because you're walking out on me and I want a reason.''

''I'm not your bloody girlfriend Doyle.''

''No but you are my partner. We work well together. We've a chance at being good, really good, and if you're throwing all that away I want to know why.''

''You really don't know do you?''

''No Bodie I don't and I'm never going to know if you don't tell me.''

Bodie let out an exasperated sigh, turned away and resumed walking. A slow defeated walk as if he'd been asked to explain the inexplicable and hadn't a clue where to start.

Doyle jogged after him and risked grabbing his arm again, but the fight had left him and Bodie stood as unmoving as a mannequin. His eyes just as lifeless.

''Talk to me Bodie.''

Bodie didn't say anything.

''Okay Bodie, is it really because of the blokes? You can't hack them? Is that it?''

Bodie dropped his gaze to his feet, but other than that made no response.

''I can't give them up Bodie, it's unfair to ask. Maybe I shouldn't have done what I did at the pub, but you...you have no clue do you?''

''No I don't have a clue Doyle. Not about anything. Not anymore'' Bodie made a move to start walking again.

''So this is really it? You're really walking away? Going to end the partnership? Ask for reassignment?''

''No. I couldn't work with anyone else. Not now'' said Bodie sadly ''I'm going to resign. There's still work in Africa. Won't last forever, writing's on the wall, but there's enough for now. And maybe I'll get lucky and won't need to worry about a future.''

''Well you can stop that sort of thinking right now sunbeam'' said Doyle forcefully. ''Look if I tell you something. Something that'll make you angry. Something that'll explain the pub. Will you promise to look after yourself? If the partnership's over anyway there's no point in keeping quiet, you won't like it, but it will explain.''

''Okay Doyle, you win, one last time. What do you have to tell me? What's so bloody important that even now you have to have it all your own way? Can't just let me go?''

Doyle took a deep breath. ''Okay sunshine, here goes; I think you're probably the most beautiful man I've ever met. It's been hell keeping my hands off you. Watching you with the birds. Wishing, just once, you'd look at me that way. Wanting you and not being able to have you'' Doyle stopped and came up with a wry little grin. ''Don't worry you're quite safe. Never forced meself on anyone yet. I respect who you are. I've always respected who you are. But it means we can never be together and I've been going crazy wishing it didn't. I got jealous. Stupidly, pointlessly jealous. That's why I did what I did at the pub. You turn up at my flat looking like Rudolph Valentino's better looking mate and then spend all night being witty and charming and I just couldn't stand to be with you. I had to get away. Remind myself what I can have and what I can't.''

''What?'' said Bodie.

''You can't seriously expect that I'm going to say that all over again?''

''No but it'd be nice.''

''What?''

''I said'' said Bodie stepping closer ''it'd be nice.''

''That's what I thought you said.''

''And?''

''Bloody hell.''

''Pretty much likely to be I should think'' agreed Bodie.

''So what happens now?''

''See those trees?''

''What?''

''Doyle, stop arguing and look at the trees.''

''I wasn't exactly arguing.''

''Give me strength. What colour are they?''

''Tree coloured Bodie'' replied Doyle obediently.

''A little more observation Doyle.''

''Emerald green, malachite maybe, some olive green, viridian, a bit of oxide of...''

''A little less observation Doyle. They're bloody green. Nice and lush.''

''So?''

''You'd have lasted five minutes in Africa. Five. Water; they have a bloody water source and looking at the foliage I'd say a hefty stream or even a river.''

''So?''

''Just follow me'' Bodie strode off leaving Doyle with little choice but to follow.

Bodie was right, the trees followed the line of a river, much depleted by the weather, but still cool and a few feet deep. Bodie sat down and started taking off his shoes.

''What are you doing Bodie?''

''Well I thought a little paddling, then maybe the closest I can get to a swim in...mmm...I'd say about four feet of water.''

''We're in the middle of a job.''

''You are mate. I've resigned.''

''Cowley will kill us.''

''We're never going to make the airport by two o'clock. We couldn't even get back to London by two o'clock. We're just going to sit in traffic until he orders us to turn around and sit in more traffic. I vote, cut out the middle man, wait 'til it clears, have a swim, go home.''


	8. Chapter 8

Doyle eyed Bodie with unabashed disbelief. ''My career is over.''

''Might as well join me then eh?''

''Bodie, we are in the middle of a job.''

''Doyle, how exactly are you proposing we do that job? We couldn't even get there on a bike by two. We're stuffed. Cowley's stuffed. Let's have a swim.''

Doyle worried at his bottom lip for a few minutes and then sat down. ''I expect you're right, but Cowley is going to kill us.''

''Eleventh commandment Doyle. He'll have to find out about it first.''

''How are you still alive Bodie?''

''Luck and charm.''

''Should I take my clothes off then?''

''Unless you want to swim in them. In this weather you might appreciate the heat transference.''

''What?''

''Take your bloody clothes off Doyle.''

''Never thought you'd ask'' Doyle attempted tentatively, uncertain of this new understanding.

Bodie had divested himself of his entire wardrobe by this time and he crawled over to Doyle and flopped down beside him under the trees on the still green and cool grass. ''I'm asking'' he said seriously ''take 'em off sunshine.''

''Feel like a bit of a berk with you looking at me like that.''

''Didn't seem to hold you back at the pub.''

''Is that going to be alright between us? What I did?''

''Are you going to pick every little incident to pieces?''

''Probably'' admitted Doyle.

''Look I wasn't happy about it at the time. But if it got us here, who's complaining.''

Doyle had already taken off his jacket. He pulled his t-shirt over his head and then reached for his trainers.

''Saving the best 'til last eh sunshine?'' observed Bodie.

Doyle felt himself blush. Bodie laughed uproariously as the colour flushed through his face. ''No chance of you making this any easier then mate?'' asked Doyle.

''Almost certainly not'' replied Bodie. Doyle reached to undo his belt and peel off his jeans. Bodie watched as Doyle was finally naked before him. Then he frowned, reaching to touch the bruises left by Doyle's fall. There was a welt that didn't seem to fit. ''What's this then?''

''Nothing.''

''Mate I know wounds. That's not nothing and that's not old.''

''Don't get mad okay?''

''Okay.''

''I went back to the pub'' admitted Doyle awkwardly.

''Why?''

''Because I didn't think you'd look at me twice and it helped before.''

''Helped? Letting some unknown bastard do you through the bruises?''

''It might not have been my smartest move.''

''No, it might not have been'' confirmed Bodie looking less than happy.

''You said you wouldn't get cross.''

''What happened then?'' asked Bodie sounding cross.

''I got more than I bargained for that's all.''

''What the bloody hell does that mean Doyle?''

''It means I got more than I bargained for.''

''Doyle...'' warned Bodie.

''Got out back with this guy and he had some mates. Nothing to write home about.''

''And you let them, all of them?''

''I was steaming. I'd had who knows how much to drink, too many pain killers and I was out of my head. I let them do whatever they wanted.''

''And you told the doctor this?''

''Don't be bloody stupid Bodie.''

''Are you alright?''

''Yeah. I am now'' Doyle stopped and looked into the pair of concerned eyes scrutinising him ''I really am now. Come here.''

''Why?''

''Because I want to kiss you and I'm too lazy to move.''

''Oh well so long as there's a reason.''

Bodie closed his eyes for that first kiss. Wanting no distractions. Wanting only to feel. He couldn't help smiling a little. Doyle tasted vaguely of peppermint.

Doyle broke the kiss to look at him unhappily ''No good?''

''Perfect'' sighed Bodie, and then remembered who he was. ''Come on Doyle. Let's get you cooled off.''

''Well that's a new approach'' responded Doyle looking just a little bit smug.

''You have seen nothing yet Raymond my old son.''

''That's nice.''

''What is?''

''Hearing you use my name.''

''Are you going to get gooey eyed at everything I do?''

''I hope so.''

''How okay are you?'' enquired Bodie thoughtfully.

''Fine why?''

''So if I wanted to...you know, after our little swim.''

''What if I wanted to?''

''We could toss a coin.''

''Well I was certainly thinking of...''

''Cheeky...''

Doyle threw himself into the water, revelling in the coolness of it. ''We're going to have to find those keys you know.''

''Probably turn up in a hundred years time. A rare example of twentieth century workmanship.''

''You don't seem very bothered.''

''Always keep a spare set.''

''On you?''

''In the glove box.''

''Oh very secure.''

''Is this going to be my life from now on? Hearing you nag?'' asked Bodie.

Doyle stood up in the water and Bodie followed his lead, worried he'd gone too far. Doyle looked quietly serious and Bodie's stomach knotted. ''From now on Bodie?''

''Forget I said it.''

Doyle stepped forward ''What if I don't want to forget it?''

''What if...what?'' stumbled Bodie.

''What if I don't want to forget it?'' repeated Doyle. ''What if I like the sound of it? Would that be okay?''


	9. Chapter 9

Bodie waited. There had to be a catch in this. Doyle couldn't possibly be saying what it sounded as if he was saying. ''No more pubs?'' tested Bodie.

''No more pubs''

''Birds?'' asked Bodie.

''Maybe, if we agree it. Together.''

''Together?''

''Everything and always Bodie. Together.''

Bodie waded abruptly out of the river and sat down near his clothes. Doyle stared at him for a moment. Bodie looked miserable.

Doyle waded slowly out after him. ''What's the matter? I thought you wanted that. Us being together?''

''Remember telling Cowley I'd never had an 'us'. When I got stabbed, not long after he made us a team. Cowley visited, but you never did.''

''Didn't think you'd be comfortable with me there. Thought you'd rather I kept away. Thought I was doing the right thing.''

''Don't suppose it matters now'' said Bodie despondently.

''Something matters. You've got a face like a wet weekend.''

''Are you sure this is what you want?''

''What Valentino's better looking mate and a lifetime of bliss?''

''I'm being serious Doyle.''

''Back to 'Doyle' am I?'' Doyle gently teased. He'd seated himself near Bodie, close, but not enough to crowd him.

''I'm no prize Doyle. I hurt the last woman I slept with. Haven't been with another one since. Not sure I can trust myself. What if I hurt you?''

''What, more than five blokes outside a pub?''

''It was five?''

''I think so. Might have been a couple more. It's all a bit hazy.''

Bodie looked pensive and then he said ''I had a mate. Long time ago. Like you.''

''What implausibly handsome and good with a gun?''

''Into blokes. But with him it was just blokes.''

''Into you was he sunshine?''

''No, I never told him. Never told anyone.''

''No one?''

''Cowley knows, like he knows about you. Only I didn't exactly tell him.''

''Oh'' said Doyle ''what exactly did you do?''

''Fell apart.''

''Go on mate. Whatever it is, I'm listening.''

''We were in Scotland, middle of bloody nowhere, Cowley doing his bit for the home country.''

''Okay.''

''We were up there for weeks. I'm watching Cowley's back. Then I get this letter. Redirected. I can show you if you like. It's not much of a letter, but it's all I've got.''

''What did it say Bodie?''

''It was from this lad I'd been on the ships with, telling me this...'' Bodie suddenly stopped and stared very intently at a nearby tree for tense seconds. Then he seemed to recover himself ''...telling me Terry had copped it.''

''Okay''

''Stupid bugger had blown himself up. Faulty gas canister. Bloody camping. Can you believe that? All the stupid stunts we pulled, all the flaming rough weather, there's still bloody pirates out there and the stupid bugger blew himself up camping.''

''So what happened?''

''I got drunk, very drunk, then I...Cowley took my gun away. Stayed with me. Wouldn't leave me. Not alone.''

''And you told him?''

''No I couldn't tell anyone, but he found the letter, put two and two together and didn't come up with five.''

''So what was this lad to you Bodie?''

''I loved him. I could just never tell him. In the end I left him. We wrote. We wrote for years, I just never told him. Terry and Liam. But I never had the bloody courage did I?''

''Bodie, when did you last sleep with a man?''

Bodie got up and started getting dressed.

''Have you slept with a man?'' persisted Doyle.

''Once.''

''Not Terry?''

''No before Terry. I was what...fifteen? Yeah that'd be right. Fifteen and we didn't exactly sleep with each other. More like you outside the pub. He paid me.''

''He what?''

''I was stuck, needed the money, he paid me. He was an alright bloke.''

''An alright bloke who paid a teenage boy for sex?''

''Don't make it sound ugly.''

''Give me details Bodie. What exactly did he pay you for?''

''Use your imagination.''

''I am using my imagination Bodie which is why I need you to tell me, because what I'm imagining isn't very pretty.''

''He paid me for what you did with that bloke, the night I saw you.''

''How old was this man Bodie?''

''It's a bit bloody late to arrest him Doyle. I shouldn't have said anything.''

''Oh no you don't'' said Doyle beginning to pull on his own clothes ''your days of clamming up and running away are over. You bloody talk to me Bodie.''

''He was forty-bloody-two alright?''

''And that doesn't sound ugly to you?''

''You weren't there. He was kind and decent and gentle. And I don't need your bloody approval Doyle. Neither of us do.''

''Do? Bodie are you still in touch with this man?''

''I'm not telling you Doyle because I don't want the next file I read to be on him.''

''Which means you are. You're bloody still communicating with your abuser.''

For the second time that day Doyle found himself on the wrong end of Bodie's fist.


	10. Chapter 10

''Bodie, don't you see how wrong what that man did was?''

''He cared for me.''

''Bodie, he paid you.''

''You weren't there Doyle. Maybe here with your coppers and your social workers it was wrong, but out there it was...'' Bodie stopped and wandered down to the river's edge to look across at the thirsty sunbaked scenery beyond their little oasis.

Doyle came to stand beside him. ''It was what Bodie?'' he asked gently.

''It was love'' Bodie answered quietly.

Doyle bit down on his lip to prevent himself from saying what he thought of that rose tinted bollocks.

''It _was_ love'' Bodie repeated again softly, as if in answer to his scepticism. ''He taught me how to get by. To look after myself. Checked on me when I was ill. Got me reading, learning, making something of myself. It was the last night. I was leaving; I needed money and he asked. I could have said no, but I didn't want to. I'd have done it without the money, but the money made it alright between us. I don't expect you to understand.''

''And you still see him?''

Bodie stiffened angrily. ''Always the bloody copper Doyle'' he snapped and moved to stride away.

Doyle grabbed the back of his shirt, halting him. ''I want to know because I want to understand. If I give you my word will you tell me?''

Bodie just stood rigidly immobile in his grasp.

''Trust me eh mate?'' Doyle tried again and Bodie relaxed a little. Doyle released him so he could turn round.

''I hadn't seen him for years. We wrote a bit at first, but I met Terry and then I ended up in Africa. We lost touch.''

''But you've seen him recently?''

''When I got stabbed, when you didn't come to see me, I asked Cowley to find him.'' Doyle's face clouded with guilt, but Bodie must have misread it because he said ''I needed someone to talk to, someone who would understand. Even I need that sometimes and I didn't have anyone else. I won't see him again if you don't want me to. There's nothing between us now. He's just an old bloke in Brighton with a poodle and geraniums waiting to retire.''

''I'm not going to stop you seeing him Bodie. I just wish I wasn't the reason you needed to find him. I was so busy being a martyr I didn't see what was under my bloody nose. I think Cowley tried to tell me.''

A flash of panic crossed Bodie's face.

''I meant he tried to get me to visit you. He must have thought we'd figure it out if I did. He's not one for loose lips Cowley.''

''Have we figured it out?'' asked Bodie hesitantly.

''Yeah'' said Doyle raising his hands to stroke Bodie's hair ''Yeah I think we have.''

Bodie kissed him and this time it was Doyle who closed his eyes.

When he opened them again Bodie said ''I want you, please Ray, now.''

''Not here sunshine'' replied Doyle nuzzling into his neck.

''Behind a pub with any bloke who'll have you but not here with me?'' said Bodie with an infinite bleak sadness.

Doyle pulled away to look into his eyes. ''You can have me Bodie, here if you want, but I can't have you.''

''Why not?''

''Because you haven't had a bloke since you were fifteen years old and I've nothing here to make it easy for you.''

''I don't need anything.''

''I won't risk hurting you sunbeam, be patient, we have all the time we need.''

''But I want you.''

''If this is a sign of things to come I'm going to need extra vitamins'' teased Doyle lightly, softening his refusal. Then he reached for Bodie's fly ''let me'' he said pushing Bodie back a few steps to the support of a tree trunk.

Bodie's expression was a comical mix of elation and bewilderment and it went straight to Doyle's heart. Doyle sank to his knees ''Anyone done this since you were fifteen?''

Bodie gazed at him in breathless awe. ''I've never had a bloke do that. Dished it out a few times but no one bothered reciprocating and then I gave it up didn't I?''

''Bodie you may be the closest thing to a virgin I've ever slept with.''

Bodie blinked furiously in consternation and Doyle knew right then with absolute certainty that this man would hold his heart forever.

Doyle had anchored his hands below Bodie's hips and he felt the quiver run through Bodie's muscles as his lips touched him. The first man to have him. The first man to slide his tongue along him and tantalise straining flesh. To play with the seeping hole and swallow him only to release and swallow him again. To hear Bodie groan as the sweet torment overloaded his senses and stole his words. To inflict a teasingly exquisite torture until Bodie gasped his name and came deep in Doyle's mouth and felt Doyle swallow against him. The first man who had ever done that for him and the last man who ever would.


	11. Chapter 11

Doyle didn't expel him abruptly but tongued him gently as he slid out. As he slipped free Doyle placed a soft kiss on the spent flesh he'd released.

''Where did you learn to do that?'' asked Bodie reverently.

''Been at it a while, seen a lot of pubs'' replied Doyle casually, getting to his feet.

''Only pubs, no one you cared for?''

''I care for you.''

''All those blokes, you just let them use you?''

''I fall for the women Bodie. So yeah, the blokes just use me.''

''So why aren't you with a woman?''

''Why aren't you?'' challenged Doyle.

''I fall for the blokes'' answered Bodie soberly.

Doyle pulled off his t-shirt and dropped it by his jacket. Then he started to unfasten his belt.

''What are you doing?'' asked Bodie.

''Giving you what you wanted'' replied Doyle pausing to look at him. ''You can't hurt me. Not unless you want to.''

''You let blokes hurt you?''

''You've seen my arse.''

''Why?''

''Dunno'' answered Doyle returning to his belt.

''If I wanted to hurt you now, you'd let me?''

''Do you?''

''I'm fighting an urge to throttle you'' replied Bodie impatiently.

Doyle stopped again ''I thought you wanted this?''

''I'm not a flaming punter. I wanted, you know...''

Doyle grinned incredulously ''What, moonlight and roses?''

''Don't make it sound stupid.''

''You're serious.''

''Of course I'm bloody serious.''

''Really?'' said Doyle ''Bodie I admit I'm soft on you, but hearts and flowers?''

''What's wrong with that?''

''Between blokes?''

''You really don't fall for the blokes do you?''

Doyle sat down looking perplexed. Bodie came over to sit with him. ''Ray I want more than your body. Although I want your body too. Make no mistake about that. But I want the package deal, the whole Raymond Doyle. Like you give the birds.''

''So do I take the jeans off or not?''

''How can you not understand what I'm saying?''

''I get it Bodie, you want me to be your girlfriend. Now do I take the jeans off or not?''

''I don't want a bloody girlfriend'' exploded Bodie in exasperation ''I want you, my mate, not to treat me like some bloke you found at the back of a pub.''

Doyle pulled at his jeans and tugged them off in a surprisingly deft movement. ''Just take what you need. I'll give you anything you want.''

''How many blokes have you said that to Ray?''

''Look I never claimed to be a monk okay? So I've had a few blokes, we didn't all lock ourselves away in an ivory tower.''

''Okay Ray. I'll take what I need'' said Bodie wearily resentful.

Doyle propped himself up on his elbows expectantly.

Bodie moved in to kiss him and Doyle responded to the gentle touch of lips and the warmth of a roaming tongue.

Bodie moved down, kissing his neck and chest. Grazing his nipples and then he stopped, reaching round Doyle to pull him into an embrace and bring him to lie against him on the grass. Doyle lay bewildered and aroused in his arms but Bodie didn't move. Holding him with gentle firmness.

Doyle felt distinctly awkward. He'd never done this with a bloke before. Just lain cocooned in his arms. Bodie wasn't asleep but he wasn't much of anything else either. Doyle stared at the sky and listened to him breathe. Bodie planted a kiss among his curls. ''This is what I need Ray'' he said. ''When you need it too I'll know we've got somewhere.''

Doyle frowned. He let blokes use him, he always had, something in him needed that, to give himself over entirely. But he had the uneasy feeling Bodie was asking for more than anyone had asked before. For something that couldn't be given easily. For something he wasn't sure he could give at all. It was a lot easier to give himself to a gaggle of men behind a pub who'd only wanted to see him bleed and submit.

Bodie kept him there in the dappled shade for long eternal minutes disturbed only by the fish gulping for oxygen and the distant sounds of frustrated traffic until the time started to slip away.

Bodie continued to say nothing and Doyle continued to listen to his slow mesmeric breathing, the gentle thud of his heart.

Doyle's mind settled and drifted, finally facing the reality of that last time behind the pub. He'd felt the electricity in the air and knew what was coming and he hadn't wanted it. His face had been wet with tears as he'd unzipped his jeans. They'd rammed themselves down his throat and into his guts. They'd whipped his bruises and forced things into him so he'd torn. They'd held a blade to him and made him come, cutting him as he had. He'd hated himself and silently pleaded for it to end and he'd spread his legs so they could hurt and humiliate him again. And didn't know why he did it; and he didn't want to do it anymore; and he didn't know how to stop.

''Shhh'' he heard a soft voice say and there was a gentle hand stroking his face. He opened his eyes to find his lashes were wet. ''Bad dream?'' asked Bodie.

Doyle couldn't answer, he reached out instead and grabbed Bodie and held onto him. Secure in his embrace. Safe within his arms.

''That's okay mate'' Bodie soothed. ''It's what I'm here for, it's what I'll always be here for.''

END


End file.
